Double You: The Seven Sequels by Shane Peacock

Author:Shane Peacock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, JUV001000, JUV028000, JUV039060
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2014-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

What a brilliant move it would have been if she had planned all of this! It would have been a stroke of genius. Here she was, being pursued by a man that she and her friend (a boy) could not get away from, so because she was the girl, she found a cop, causing the pursuer to make himself scarce. She pretended the boy had just assaulted her, then said she wouldn’t press charges and asked the cops to take her somewhere else in the city, far away from the pursuer, knowing that the cops would also take her boyfriend (uh, her friend, that is) far away too. And just before all this happened, just an instant before, she bumped into her friend, whom she knew the cops would frisk, lingered there with her arms around him and in his coat and relieved him of his gun and even his suspicious clip of a massive amount of money, and took it with her for safekeeping. Then she met up with her friend somewhere else, both of them free of their pursuer and ready to move on…together. It would indeed be genius, a perfect way to escape an inescapable situation.

But wasn’t that a fantasy, a movie plot? Would she actually do that, this outwardly unremarkable young woman with the Bond Girl name? And if she did do it, where would she go afterward to meet this boy? Where in this massive, crowd-filled city would she go? It would have to be somewhere that I knew about, some place she had mentioned to me. I thought of her in the cab coming into New York, her blue eyes staring up at the buildings in awe. I thought of her talking about the city as if it were the place of her dreams. Then it came to me. She’d said something about a particular place she wanted to see the most.

30 Rock!

I started to really run. I didn’t care about the subway anymore, I was booking it north on my own two feet at a million miles an hour, heading for Forty-Ninth Street near the Avenue of Americas and the Rockefeller Center.

On the way, I kept telling myself not to get my hopes up. Why would this girl care about me and my need to know the truth about my grandfather? It was my life, my world, and it couldn’t possibly matter to her. She’d been abandoned at birth; she was likely hardened inside. My view of her as kind, despite what had been done to her, seemed awfully naïve. She wouldn’t be there.

It took me about twenty minutes to get up to Forty-Ninth Street. I’m guessing it would take most people about an hour and a half. I was sweating bullets. It was hard not to stare up at 30 Rock when I turned the corner to the side of the building where the skating rink was—it was so famous. And there was the rink. That was what she said she dreamed of—not the TV show.

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